


Sable

by So_much_angst



Category: Original Work
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Platonic Relationships, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_much_angst/pseuds/So_much_angst
Summary: Cursed to live his immortal life as a massive black wolf, Sable finds solace in a hunter.





	Sable

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a fairytale for a class. It became this monster and I wanted to share it.

 

There once was a man and a woman, helplessly in love. They lived in a manor outside of town, surrounded by trees and with a lake towards the back. The manor itself was a beautiful thing, plush rooms from the woman's inheritance, baths fit for a king, and a small vegetable garden out front by the ornate doors. The couple lived in the house for many months after their marriage, happy and content with their slice of heaven.

  
As the months continued on, the couple found out they would soon be a family. Overjoyed, they spent a great sum of money on the child's room and making the rest of the house safe. When the day came, the couple welcomed a beautiful baby boy into the world.

Years passed on, the little boy growing like a weed, eager to get his hands on as much knowledge as possible. He would stay up late at night reading, hidden away under a cover with a light stone his parents brought back from the wizard in town. He seemed oblivious to her parent's growing unease with each other, unaware of the fractures making their way into the marriage. They hid it well, confining fights to the far ends of the manor, united only by their rings and love for their son. One day, it proved not enough.

  
The husband, a stout man of quick wit and biting words, decided to go to town. He had grown bitter over the years of watching his wife flaunt her money to the poor. "You will become poor and haggard if you keep that up," he would snarl, envious of her large inheritance that she willingly gave to the poor. His envy soon turned to greed as he began gambling. Discontent with the marriage, he had hoped to win enough money to buy a house of his own so that he may divorce his wife.

  
During one such gambling trip, He made his way down the road, only to be stopped by a horribly disfigured lady with milky white eyes. She dragged on a chest, jingling and clinking with apparent riches inside.

  
"Sir, might you help me? My back is too weak to drag this much further and I cannot see the way."

  
The man, shaking with want and greed, seized the opportunity. "I will instead take this for myself, an old croon like you has no need for this gold." He shoved the woman over, ignoring the twinge of guilt as she stumbled down into the brush beside the road. Once the chest was in his hands, he turned tail, heading back the way he came. He paid no heed to the calls of the old woman behind him as they trailed off.

  
Once home, he hid the chest with all its riches and, for the first time in months, did not fight with his wife that evening. Further into the night, a storm gathered and broke, dousing the manor with rain and illuminating the little boy's window with flashes of white. Then, just as the boy was about a put away his book and his light stone, a thunderous crash filled the house. He startled, leaping out of bed and racing for the foyer where it had come from. He paused at the top of the stairs. His parents arrived before him, facing off with a lady in a dark cloak in the doorway. Somehow, the little boy noted, she was completely dry. He watched as his mother demanded why she had entered their home, and then turn as white as a ghost when the woman spoke.

  
"Your husband has stolen my riches; therefore I will take all that he loves."

  
The husband scoffed, "If you mean to threaten my wife, it will do you no good. We fell out of love long ago." The woman stared him down, and then turned to look at the little boy at the top of the stairs. A dark chant filled the foyer, drowning out the pelting rain and thunderous cracks from outside.

  
"No!" The man cried as the woman yelled "Leave my son out of this!"

  
The strange woman simply continued chanting, hands coming up to form odd gestures and waves. The little boy squealed as he was lifted into the air by unseen hands, squirming despite the gentleness they handled him. In his head, he heard a voice, soft and the same as the woman chanting say, "I am sorry poor child." The hands lost their gentleness as the voice faded away, pushing and pulling and drawing features out of his skin.

  
His wily black mane of hair spread down his face and back, racing over shifting features and elongating bone. The entire process was painful to watch for the mother, who broke down crying at the sight of her baby boy turned into a jet black wolf.

  
"Hear me now. Due to your actions, your child will live out the rest of his days as a creature of the night, destined to walk alone until the end of time. Only true love may break your son's curse." The woman watched long enough to see the mother sprint to gather her cursed son in her arms, folding over to sob into his inky black fur. She left the manor soon after that, seemingly taking the storm with her.

  
Several days later, once the mother and son had recovered enough to be around each other, the mother dragged her husband out of the house by his ear. "Leave now and do not come back. You are dead to us." He never returned.

  
As the years passed once more, seasons melting into the past, the mother did everything she could to give her son a good life. As he grew, she taught him how to write with his dark claws, how to hunt and forage, how to get books and carefully turn their pages. Despite her wish to be by her son's side, one day, once her joints had started to lock and bones started to ache, she left for town, and didn't return the next night.

  
Or the next.

  
Or the one after that.

  
The massive black wolf resided in the manor alone for many years after that, keeping the home tidy, if not a bit dusty. Years turned to decades until eventually, while out on a hunt one day, the wolf encountered a strange person.

  
Watching from the shadows, he saw a boy with a small bow enter his territory in pursuit after a deer. So lonesome after years of isolation, the wolf waited for a moment to greet the young hunter. The wind shifted, spooking the deer with the sudden onslaught of human and wolf scent. It bounded right towards the wolf. The massive wolf reared up, throwing its weight into the deer to pin and stun it. Once the deer was on the ground, the wolf dealt a killing bite, only to look up to see the hunter with his shaking bow aimed right at his snout. The arrow flew as the hunter released it, pinging uselessly off the wolf's face. The wolf cocked his head in confusion. He just killed the deer, why was the hunter trying to hurt him too?

  
Whining softly, the wolf reared up and sat on his haunches, towering over the hunter with his inky black body. He dipped his head, pointing with his nose at the deer. He dropped to all fours, then carefully, after years of not practicing, the wolf scratched out "I t yours" in the ground to the side.

  
He moved so the hunter could read, only to be met with a shell-shocked face. "You... You can write?!"

  
The wolf nodded. The hunter stared in disbelief. "I don't believe it, this is crazy," he muttered to himself, shaking his mess of russet curls. "Do you know where the meadow near the crooked tree is?"

  
The wolf pondered it a moment, then nodded.

  
"I have to know I'm not imagining things. Can you meet me there when the sun hangs high in the sky?" The wolf let his features be pulled into a sour expression at the thought of the sun and his black fur.

  
The hunter chuckled a bit, and then revised his request. "Sunset then?"

  
The wolf nodded. With the meeting determined, the wolf turned and stalked back into the shadows, eager to leave the hunter to his task of butchering the deer and to earn his own dinner.

  
When the sun rose the next day, the wolf napped through it, saving his energy for a long trek to the meadow. He began on his trip once the sun was dipping towards the horizon, taking his time and keeping to the shadows. By the time the wolf made it, the hunter had already settled into the soft grass. "So I’m not crazy..." he muttered to himself, oblivious to the way the wolf flicked his ears. The wolf made his way to sit in front to the hunter, the decided to lie down and let out a yawn full of pearly teeth. The hunter winced, then settled back to his cross-legged position.  
"So, you're a wolf that acts like a human?"

 

  
The wolf shook his head no.

  
"A human trapped in a wolf's body?" A nod answered him this time. "So do you have a name?"

  
A nod.

  
"Well what is it?" The wolf regarded him for a moment, before letting his shoulders roll as close as possible to a shrug that a wolf could get. Confused, the hunter mumbled, words just quiet enough for the wolf to be unable to hear. Then, the wolf saw realization followed by sadness light and cloud the hunter's silvery blue eyes. "You don't remember..."

  
The wolf nodded, ears drooping. The hunter regarded him, only for his face to light up in a smile. “I know, I could give you a name!”

  
The wolf cocked his head, nodding slowly after a heartbeat.

  
“Okay, Michael. No. James. No. Leonard?”

  
The hunter actually got a snarl out of the last one.

  
“Okay, okay,”he chuckled, “You look a lot like a dog I had when I was younger. How about Sable?"

  
The wolf closed his amber eyes, sitting up and dipping his head. He liked the name very much. Once the name was decided, the hunter jumped up and held out his hand. The wolf looked up, rearing onto his hind legs and stretching out a paw. The hunter looked up to meet the wolf's eyes, seemingly just becoming aware of how large the wolf actually was. Sitting on his hind legs, he easily scraped six feet tall at the tops of his ears. "I am Winston, and I certainly hope we can become good friends!" The hunter took the wolf's paw, and they shook firmly.

  
From then on, it was decided that the wolf would accompany the hunter on his outings, sniffing the way and showing him all of the best spots to get berries and roots. The hunter promised to leave plenty for the wolf, in thanks of the secret stashes being revealed. They hunted well together, working efficiently to take down a deer or two each week. When the sun slipped past the tree tops, the two would rest beside the small stream that meandered through the woods. The hunter spoke of his life in the village, while the wolf listened and nodded along. As summer faded into winter, the days grew colder, until eventually snow began to coat the forest floor. 

  
"I swear, I didn't mean to hit you with that branch, it was an accident!" the hunter cried as he tried to brush snow off the black wolf's coat. The wolf huffed, amber eyes narrowed and breath coming out in small puffs. His thick coat prevented most of the cold from seeping into his bones, but the sting across his nose still was unappreciated. He turned, trotting away a small distance. The hunter followed after, yelling out his apologies. As the wolf passed a snow bank, he thought of payback. The hunter stopped beside it, confused as he watched the inky wolf turn and sit.

  
"Sable?" he tested, only for his voice to break off into a shriek as the wolf leaped up and barreled at him. The hunter couldn't avoid his companion in time, resulting in going head over heels into the deep snow. The wolf let out a soft huff like sound, close to a chuckle. The hunter managed to resurface through the powder, white flakes clumped in his hair and thick cloak. "Ha ha," his voice dripped sarcasm. "Help me out, please."

  
The wolf complied, getting as close as he dared, and stretched his head out. The hunter grabbed onto his neck. The black wolf pulled his friend from the drift, standing onto his hind legs and walking back. The two of them didn't try to play in the snow after that day, the hunter falling ill for the next few days from the cold.

  
Spring was welcomed with open arms, despite the wolf's continuous sneezing as the flowers bloomed. The hunter was able to catch more with the warmth returning. Most of their days were spent lounging in the grassy fields, falling back to their mostly one-sided conversations. The hunter spoke of a girl who had moved into the village, shot down by the wolf with every ridiculous scenario he came up with to woo her. Over the passing seasons, they became the best of friends. The hunter would spend his afternoons reclined against the wolf's stomach, watching clouds and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

 

Autumn arrived with cooling mornings and the leaves turning the forest ablaze with colors. Animals started to become scarce, leaving the hunter and wolf out longer to only come back with fewer catches. One evening, under the rising crescent moon and the ever present chill of the creeping winter, the hunter found himself alone. He and the wolf had parted ways, desperate for food once more as the village’s supply had been broken into and stolen the night before. Now with nothing but frostbitten grain and scraps of meat, it was up to the hunter to bring back a large enough catch.

  
In the distance, a howling broke the cold night air. The hunter listened carefully; he and the wolf had determined specific calls for situations like this. The tone of the howl dropped, soon cresting up into a higher, whine-like call.

  
Danger.

  
The hunter readied his bow, suddenly aware of every dip and creak of the shadows around him. He backtracked through the fallen leaves, wincing at every crackling footstep. Behind a large tree to his left, something moved, the waning moonlight catching a glint of silvery fangs. The hunter spun around, letting loose an arrow into the gloom. Something squealed, then a vicious snarl, no two, no three rose into the air. The hunter let out a war cry, turning tail and sprinting off down the path. He only had to make it to the clearing across the stream. Steps pounded behind him as he fled, and not too long after he could feel warm pants and snapping teeth. Bursting across the tree line, the hunter made a dive for the stream, rolling through the chilly water. The wolves behind him splashed through at his heels. The hunter scrambled into a crouch, bow drawn with three arrow tips flashing in the dark. Five wolves surrounded him, three panting hard, one dribbling blood down its shoulder, and the final at ease off to the side.

  
The standoff held only for a moment.

  
The relaxed wolf flicked its tail, then the four others leaping forward. Two sets of teeth caught the hunter’s heavy cloak, tugging and tearing. The hunter managed to shoot the injured wolf through the nose, almost expecting it to bounce off like it had the day he met his black wolf companion. One of the wild wolves got its teeth around the hand the hunter held the bow in, forcing him to drop it with a shout of pain. The two wolves ripping at his cloak finally managed to make some headway through the thick garb, as one of the two closed its mouth around the side of the hunter’s thigh. He gave another yell of shock and pain, feeling warmth begin to soak the leg of his pants around the bite. He almost gave up hope, only to hear a loud crash in the underbrush and a vicious snarl over the other wolves.

  
There across the stream, in all his massive glory, stood the hunter’s best friend. Lips curled back to reveal sharp ivory teeth, his two amber eyes burned almost red in the starlight. His massive form looked like a smear of ink as he leapt the stream like it was a tree root in his way. The two wolves attached to the hunter by teeth let go, turning to face down the black wolf as he stalked up. The hunter realized belatedly as he collapsed why he had never seen other wolf in these parts before, his black wolf was over twice the size of the four in front of him. 

 

The two wolves jumped at the other, teeth snapping shut into the thick black fur. The black wolf barely flinched, rearing up and throwing himself back into the stream. He landed on top of one of the wolves with a sickening crunch, rolling off and splashing out of the water with the other still barely hanging onto the side of his neck. The black wolf snapped at the smaller wolf, staining his teeth red with each bite into the timber colored fur. The timber colored wolf finally let go with a yelp, turning tail and running off into the woods. That left the relaxed gray wolf who watched from the sidelines, and the smallest of the five that continued to circle the hunter possessively. The black wolf and the wild one snarled at each other, leaping and locking together in a vicious tussle.

 

The relaxed wolf finally stood, teeth bared and eyes trained of the flashes of the black wolf’s throat between the struggling. Its muscles bunched, giving the hunter just barely enough time to process and shout, “Sable!” before leaping. 

 

The black wolf responded to his name, turning and meeting the second wolf with bared teeth. He shoved the smaller of the two off him as the second wolf barreled into the fight. The hunter, now free from the watchful eyes of the wild wolves, scrambled for his bow. He managed to reach it, sending two arrows through the throat of the smallest wolf, watching as it gurgled and went limp. 

 

Despite it being smaller than him, the wild wolf had managed several well placed bites and scratches with its claws. The black wolf, fur shiny with mixed blood, managed to struggle out of a killing bite to the neck, turning to snap his jaws closed around the top of the other wolf’s muzzle at the last moment. It let out a yelp, floundering for a moment until it managed to rip itself free. It stalked off, tail between its legs, obvious that it valued its life more than the wolves it had led into this pointless hunt. 

 

Once the wolves obviously weren’t coming back, the hunter managed to shuffle to where the black wolf lay panting. His fur was wet, slicked in some places with chunks torn out in others. Her lifted his amber eyes, lips curling back in a half smile. The hunter realized a puddle was slowly spreading around the wolf. He never thought he'd see the day the wolf could be hurt, after all, the curse should have made him impervious to attacks.

 

"Sable, hey now, c'mon stay awake," he pleaded, running his hands through the wolf's thick ruff. "Come on come on, you can't die now, you're my best friend."

 

The hunter let the tears pricking his eyes slip over the edge as he let him face fall into the damp fur of the wolf's neck. "Sable please, get up," he asked, only to be met with a low huff.

 

The hunter, crying openly now, curled his fingers into the jet black fur, babbling "He hey, not now Sable, you can't leave me, you can't you can't!"

 

The wolf  whined softly, slipping his eyes shut and stilling his flank as the hunter murmured, "I love you so much, you're my best friend and I can't live without you."

 

The gentle feeling of hands washed over the wolf, drawing his massive body out from under the hunter's grasp and into the air. A flash of brilliant light filled the small clearing, illuminating the chunks of fur and spilled blood in the grass. The hunter shielded his eyes, crying out as a burst of power knocked him over. When the light faded, the hunter lowered his hand, to be met by a young man with wild black hair collapsing onto the ground in front of him

* * *

When the wolf awoke once again, the first thing he realized was that he was laying on his back. Thick coverings wrapped around his arms and up his neck, shifting and rubbing against sore wounds with every breath. The next thing the wolf realized was that anything remotely animalistic had vanished. He opened his eyes, groan of pain pitched high in his throat as he lifted a paw, only to realize it was a hand covered in skin and bandages rather than fur.

 

"You're awake!" a familiar voice called off to his right. Vision tunneling, he looked over, seeing his companion from the woods sitting in a chair. The side of his face had a large red mark over it, courtesy of the fist he'd been napping on. "Sable, thank the gods you're okay."

 

"Winston?" Sable tested, his voice rough and barely there after over a century of limited noises. The hunter, Winston nodded, getting up from his chair and about falling flat on his face when his right leg obviously protested. Sable found himself huffing, amber eyes slipping shut once more as he leaned back.

 

"I guess that witch never was specific when she said true love," Sable murmured, touching his fingers to his jaw and cheeks. He drew them over the slope of his nose, trying to imagine just how he looked after being trapped as a wolf so long. Physically, he seemed to appear only about twenty, but really, being trapped as an immortal wolf for several decades did still count as aging.

 

"I know you said your curse would be broken out a true love, but I never thought I'd be the one to break it," Winston said as he hobbled over to sit at Sable's bedside.

 

"Of course you would be the one to," Sable responded, drawing his eyes open to look at Winston once more before he continued, "You befriended me and stayed by my side no matter what, how could I not love you like family?"

 

Winston smiled shyly, the corners of his lips just barely quirking up. "Say, once you're about to get up and moving again, do you think you can help me get an evening with Delilah?"

 

Despite his weakness, Sable still managed to shove Winston off the bed. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah! I wanted to take on the usual true love theme of ending curses, but in another way than traditional. I hope it read okay! Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism is appreciated!


End file.
